mindflow #2 ascii version 06.20.94 concept/editor: joshua ruihley programmer: keith shapiro mindflow is the an attempt at getting different thoughts from people acrossed the country and putting them together in a nice little file. these thoughts can be in the form of a poem, short story, brainstorm or any other kind of self expression that can be put on a computer. the purpose is to create a nice mind trip that people can take once a month. it features different views from different people on different subjects. all that is needed to take these trips is an open mind, so open up your mind, and enjoy. if you would like to submit something to be printed in future versions of mindflow, please either mail or email us. mindflow will not work if it isn't for 'thought donations', so if you have something that you would like to be put in here, please, donate your thoughts and make mindflow a trip worth taking. all versions of mindflow can be downloaded for free from: rip curl bbs (versailles, ky) : 1.606.873.6637 Untitled Sarah Lynn Collins----------------------------------------- It happened again; she had left the cap off the toothpaste. This relationship had to end. Her life, too. Bob had planned this moment over and over for the past three years, but it had always been a fantasy. He had always wanted to put a bullet through Annie's precious little head. Then, as always, he would come back to the real world and he would love her just as much. Or so Annie thought. Deep down inside, he was jealous of the clothes that she wore and the friends that she had. On occasion, Annie would come home and find Bob wearing her clothes in an imitations of her and playing tea with his imaginary friends. She was worried, but she got over it with time. She thought she was in love. She was in Hell. Tonight when Annie came home from her job at the library, Bob was in the midst of another murder plan. He'd do it tonight. It had to be tonight. Tonight. He had the table set as always and dinner in the oven. She went to shower and Bob slipped back into his morbid dream. She'd come out of the shower, he thought, and he hug her as always, then he'd stab her in the back with the butcher knife. Yeah, that's what he would do. He sneered and went to find his weapon. With slow, ponderous steps, he walked to the bathroom door. He'd do it tonight. It had to be tonight. Tonight. Annie walked out of the bathroom to see Bob holding a carrot. "You know, I think I'd like carrots for dinner, too, Darling." Annie said before she slipped into the bedroom. She made Bob sick sometimes. She could look at him so innocently, but he knew about her. Her knew of her sins. The toothpaste would be the end of her. He plotted other ways while she dressed. He checked all the equipment that he would use. He had to do it tonight. "Honey, would you open a bottle of wine tonight. I feel a little like relaxing tonight," Annie's voice grated through the apartment. He got a bottle of Burgundy and the cork-screw. He could imagine the tip penetrating her head and hearing her screams. He grinned; he night was looking up again. He waited and concocted his next plan. He glanced around the kitchen. The blender. He'd hit her over the head with the blender. No, he'd torture her first. Her fingers and then her hands would be removed with the blender.--He grabbed her hand and cut off her fingers. She screamed. The blood splattered on his face. He'd do it tonight. It had to be tonight. Tonight. He turned on the blender and her screams mingled with the machine's. He put her fingers in and watched them... "Bob?" He shuddered from his dream and looked up. There was Annie and her fingers still intact. "Bob, why did you puree the bread sticks?" she asked staring at the blender. "What?!" He snapped at her. It was just another miserable dream, he thought. "The bread sticks?" "Oh, that. It's a new recipe for tomorrow's dinner." He grumbled. "How lovely, Darling." she said giving him a peck on the cheek. They sat down to dinner and she babbled continually about the library and the people. Bob dreamed: It was tragic. The fire swept through the apartment and swallowed everything in it's path. Annie was in it's path. She screamed his name but he just laughed. He wouldn't help her; this is what he wanted. The fire was all around her. He heard the beams fall... "Bob," Annie's voice grated again, "Have you been listening to a word I've said? You've just been staring at the candles. Is something wrong?" "No dammit!" He pushed away from the table and slammed into the bedroom. He'd sleep. He'd do it tonight. It had to be tonight, dammit. Tonight. Some time later, he awoke. She was beside him on her side of the bed. The pillow: He'd smother her with the pillow and that would be the end of her. No screams. He grabbed his pillow and jumped on her. He pressed the pillow over her head. No struggling. No sound. He pulled the pillow away and it was just her pillow. She wasn't there. He woke up in a cold sweat. She was gone. The light in the room proved it to be morning. He got up and made his way to the bathroom. He splashed his face with cold water. She was at the library by now, he thought. He glanced over at the toothpaste. It happened again. Untitled David Asher Brown------------------------------------------ "Rain keeps falling, rain keeps falling, down down down..." Words Can not describe what is... A hand reaches out to take you, And around the sun the world spins Around the the emptiness the universe spins... A hand reached out and stayed, extended there; Touches fell down An imprint was left by the hand... And the seas parted The flock took to flight.. Still I stood there, Watching vacantly... Two people rose from the ground And up to the clouds, the sky, the sea... I watch...I watch, but I don't wait... People are missing Love, beauty, all gone, never here... Beauty, how is it you were never here? You left behind that piece of feeling, "Look my way" Now I feel the loneliness... "Don't ever love me..." A hand began to reach farther and farther out I look at the hand and felt inside:do not wait, only be... The hand flies past and grasps the person next to me... I never understood, why the hand is most beautiful... I could never percieve inside me why the palm, the finger tip Helped someone to feel... Then I looked at the soft skin... I held a stren face, and shed not a tear Yet still I felt empty, not within myself But in my world... Emptiness is a terriable metaphor... "The suspense is terriable, I hope it will never end." So I lay in the corner of my room Where my bed sits next to the window And all around me is silence And all inside me is that fear Of becoming a human... I want my mind back, you bastards... I will never have that which I seek... I won't have my beauty... I only have my love, yet it is not wrapped in someone else's... So I sing... "`Don't you...forget about me...'" So It Is Justin Cutway---------------------------------------------- when as so often the slighted eye is deceived THERE is ( ) now stop to look the line is as is the BREATH when all IS ( ) earn it and it will ( ) Untitled Jennifer Ray----------------------------------------------- Sweat drenched dreams etched in the human memory taunting the human face. Horror stricken screams ricochet from every shadowed room. Shimmering tears spill form the shallow wells of society's eyes. Hearts are open and bloody in this the moment of human need. Orbittin in the blackness of space is a swirling mass of predator and prey. Slowly eaten by the expanding rift, swelling beneath our meticulously clean toes, that must never touch bottom. It seperates mother and daughter, and brothers and sisters. Hate is its weapon and its victory. Just past midnight, we are vulnerable to this crack. The quell of demons buried deep beneath a wall of earthen fragments. Inch by inch broken earth seemingly heals itself. Souls of the poet labour ardously spinning their yarns and telling their tales for the fate of their home, and saving our lives. The Attic (c) 1994 James Kight--------------------------------------- This lonely room in which I sit, keeps reality at bay Silent years have come and gone and this existence bears no gold Yet my despair has found no home much like a dog without his day And empty hatred bears no grudge but keeps this soul from growing cold. The ray of sun that visits as I ponder makes my skin so pale But I am grateful for the light that drapes me with its dusty trail. A frame that shows us life stagnates is nailed upon the facing wall. Decomposition sets in slow and drives the strength from deep within. If loving helps the lonely sinner, lifting up the heavy shawl, Pity burns the open wound and makes of it a mortal sin. The birds of spring have come again, and sorrow follows close behind. Sing to me your song of life that drifts its way towards its kind. Bittersweet the strong desire that blows away like shifting sand And leaves the weary coarse and dreary, grasping for the empty air. The tears come softly uninvited, resting on my withered hand That moves no further than its home upon the metal, cold and bare. When will life give up on me like warmth beneath the falling snow... Who will say they knew the man that they abandoned long ago... Education Apryl Schilling-------------------------------------------- Angry young man battling emotions untried uselessly fighting chao's reign stubbornly standing against the mass euphoricaly dead now. Frightened souls dance from right to left outwardly calm, inwardly shivering mind reeling in shock. Convulsing nerves twine around the hate, an all consuming urges fated, unfortunate wretch linking soul to soul doing battle to survive helpless, screaming unanswered prayers ominipotent creatures prowling on to the last breath death. Grade Point 2 (c)1994 Micheal C. Dasit----------------------------------- paper piles in the floor on the desk disks and books (no, "texts") and monitors reflect in a dusty mirror cigarettes, ashtray evening dusk through slatted windows smoke boiling roiling to the ceiling yellowed florescents flicker sometime off the fan with no guard in the corner and the man with no hope at the keyboard my love matt libs-------------------------------------------------- my precious love of darque and sweet domain of which the sun never shines and falls a constant rain such beauty i've never beheld within my mortal life your presence remains with me throughout my pain and strife though i may curse you and defile your fragile mind my devotion to you will always be throughout all eternal time and even when my life is over and Death has come for me i'll remember you, my love and whatever will be shall be Smudges Kelli Lee-------------------------------------------------- Don't dull your sharp tongue on my account. My halo tilted years ago when the little boys on the playground ran around yanking up my plaid skirt to take a peek at my JC Penney underpants. The words you speak, I've seen countless times scrawled in bathroom stalls, graffitied on abandoned buildings, carved into desks in detention, and I've even said a few myself. When I look into your eyes not only am I blinded by the light of intense tractor-beams that pull me closer and closer and closer, each word you speak is a calling. A mystical sound that surpasses audible words like the blowing of a conch shell or the lingering hum of a gong. In it's own way a religion. So, don't let your mommy or any other woman spit-wipe your mouth. Keep it dirty, and kiss me. faces of reality Sarah Levien----------------------------------------------- I wear many faces. Though some may believe I am what I say, I am not. For never do I show my true self to another. And never will I throw open the curtains to let them weep for the tragedy they see before them. Though my lips may turn upward at the corners, to reveal maybe a smile, the eyes tell another story. The story begins with the tears that I shed and ends somewhere in the midst of infinity. Never! can I be happy. For what if tomorrow I am sad? But to them I am happy. Free and careless like the wind! Oh, they think they know me. They do, but it is not me they know. They know my facade. Look! My mask is stained. Quickly, I must put on another. I must hurry and paint the smile upon the frown, before they see. For if they saw, they'd laugh. But is that so bad? No, the prospect does not daunt me. But still I fear. I fear them seeing me, the true me. For if they did, I'd no longer have me to myself. The Night Noise Mark LaPolt------------------------------------------------ My head starts up from fitful doze I search the empty room. For some small sign of what I heard I peer into the gloom. A noise, a howl? Some beast of night? I wonder what it was. That rose me from unpleasent dreams Whithout revealing cause. Unsatified, I don my coat And lightly step outside, Perhaps the sound repeats itself, And thereby makes me wise. The cool night air soothes my soul and I wonder, 'Could it be? That in my restless dreaming state The sound could come from me? As I ponder this in silence My ears become aware Of all those precious little sounds That waft on night's thin air. The crickets chirp, the owls cry Somewhere a night bird sings And my noise? My phantom noise? Could it be of these things? Settled in soul I turn once more To leave this realm of night. When once again I hear the sound That gave me such a fright. A haunting howl, more piteous Than any sad refrain, The noise that woke me from my sleep From dreams of doubt and pain, Was nothing more dark and fearful Than the whistle of the northbound train. RUSH H D Suckow------------------------------------------------- The Lemmings they say --- RUSH to throw themselves in some suicide act off cliffs --- in throngs too many to count. But - once and late at night - in the blue light of early morning tv - I awoke uncomfortably - laying on a couch too small and too hard to sleep upon - to see footage of Lemmings RUSHing in so many large numbers --- but --- not to throw themselves --- you could see the fear on furry rodent faces - as reality showed so clearly that they were about to plunge unintended--- and they tried - desperately - to stop - to turn back - but they could not turn back - and in large numbers - they were pushed off the cliff - pushed by those who were behind and were as yet unaware of their journey's unintended end. The Divine Tragedy Cy Routh----------------------------------------------- Eyes closed....backwards....fade to WHITE........A body hovers, floating on a cushion of air, life plasma flowing by leaving a soft, tingling sensation on the skin that teases each hair, an anxious half-hungry pressure swirling about just behind the ribs, the lungs short of breath, unique to love, in an immense whiteness, shadowlessly extending beyond reason, pure, unconfined by mortal thought, that surpasses in its brilliance any religion, any philosophy, all the gods for the conscious viewer, vision of the mind. A white so resplendent, scintillating, angelic, only to be viewed through closed eyes, the image is forever etched, beyond the optic, encompassing the spirit, directly into the instinct, only interrupted by diminutive voids of light emitted by distant, supernal orbs, strewn chaotically in a familiar pattern, intermingled shimmer of emeralds and sapphires abort impending suicide. Approach shadow....plummet........The ivory beast, long, graceful neck curved forward in introspection meets the gnarled mane in the cylindrical head, three efficacious, magnifying eye-stalks, spiraling a dying sphere, iridescence raped by the corruption of the star, is grasping with gaunt, glimmering arms at the abscessed growth upon her broad, rectilineal breast as the serene visionary, drawn by the mass of the orb, tumbling toward the titanic creature, eclipsing the darkness, is swallowed by the arched glass atop her head. Paradise lost....exit garden........Light, white, cloud, cream, grey, storm, black, dark, nothing...but the hiss of air, now frail frame falls from glory towards the smoke-marbled drab ball, the color of slate infused with the dying of vegetation, that encompasses ears, flesh with burning, ambrosia gives way to sulfur, melting hair, lungs that once breathed love now breathe fire, charred skin flakes away leaving bare nerves to ward off the searing heat. Innocence is stripped away as the blackened bones shatter upon the rocks. I look through the dark pine boughs, only illuminated by the dying embers, into the even darker night sky, filled with brilliant specks of white...and I know. Therefore it is I who will suffer while those who are ignorant go on mocking bliss. But I have the hope, the vision, to soothe the pain. They unknowingly pity me. I wish I could pity them. the other side keith shapiro---------------------------------------------- the last time i talked to you i tried to tell you how i feel but life as usual interrupted and now you are gone away to the other side of the country to the other side of the world my heart tells me that you will come back and so i wait for you on the other side of tomorrow why is it that the road is paved with left over good intentions you ran away before i could the courage in my soul evaporate but two lines not parallel will eventually intersect my soul knows you will return to me and so i wait for you on the other side of tomorrow you are the only person who makes me feel and makes me want to go on but to you there has to be some other who you want to carry on and not me but i believe eventually the world will stand still and everyone else will go away and so i wait for you on the other side of tomorrow ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ thank you for your time ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ if you would like to submit a poem, short story, brainstorm, or anything else that you think belongs in mindflow, please mail me at my home or email me through the internet or on the ripcurl bbs. this is the official home of mindflow. all versions of mindflow will be here and available to download for free. josh ruihley keith shapiro 418 wells lane 199 woodlark road versailles, ky 40383-1545 versailles, ky 40383-9190 internet : ebbheadky@aol.com internet : shapiro@ukpr.uky.edu all versions of mindflow can be downloaded for free from: rip curl bbs (versailles, ky) : 1.606.873.6637 .